33. Sloan

CHAPTER 33

Sloan

"L isten, Sloan. This no-friendship thing is bullshit and you know it."

"Franny, I've already told you, I am done with this. I'm done being a pawn in your schemes or a name you can throw around to try and reap benefits," Sloan shoots back.

"This is because of that parasite, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"The Premier Witch's friend. Dahlia or whatever it is."

"Daisy."

"Yeah, her. She told you not to be friends with me, didn't she?"

Exasperated, Sloan stands, picks up the mugs that previously held their tea, and brings them to the sink. "No, Franny. She didn't. And see, this is exactly why I don't want to hang out with you anymore. Believe it or not, I am capable of making decisions on my own. I realized the kind of person I want to be, and frankly, it isn't someone who associates with the likes of you."

"The likes of me? What do you mean by that?"

"Franny. Come on."

"No. Tell me what you mean by that. Because as far as I know, we have been the best of friends since we were children. We've grown up together. Become powerful witches together. All I see is you attempting to throw away everything we have built for some parasite."

Sloan's magic builds under her skin, fueled by a rising fury. "Do. Not. Call her a parasite again, or you will meet all that power we've built and more that you are too dumb to know about."

"Look at you. Defending someone who isn't even worth the dust from your shoe, let alone your time and effort."

Rage explodes from Sloan, shooting silver flames at Franny, singeing the ruffled sleeve of her dress as it narrowly misses her arm.

"Are you fucking serious!" Franny yells.

"Yes. And next time, I won't miss." Sloan seethes. "You are not one to talk. You tried to flirt your way in with Lachlan last year during the Premier Witch competition, and it was clear to anyone with eyes that Petra had his heart. You and Gwen caused so much pain and destruction when we were young, and you don't even remember it. You are so soulless and self-centered that you don't even realize that no one actually likes you." Sloan is breathless by the time she finishes, but as she stares at Franny, she sees that her words never hit home. They bounce off her as if she were tossing tiny plastic beads at her.

"What have you become?" Franny scoffs, running a hand over her singed sleeve and repairing it.

"Someone who finally realizes their worth." Sloan nearly growls. She raises a hand, pointing toward the door. "Now get the fuck out of my house and never come back again."

Franny snatches her purse from the back of a chair and glares at Sloan. "You'll regret this."

"Doubtful," Sloan says to Franny's back as she charges from the room. It's not until the door slams behind her that Sloan lets loose a breath and, with it, the tension inside her that manifested the moment she got home today.

Sloan had planned to pop home quickly after work to freshen up and head over to Daisy's, but that plan was kicked aside when she found Franny waiting on her front doorstep. Sloan hadn't heard from her since sending the text to her and Gwen, so to say she was surprised to see her here is an understatement. Franny must have thought that if she cornered Sloan, she could talk some sense into her—or at least what Franny believes is sense. She has never had much of it, so it's always hard to identify it in the real world.

Yes, she may have initiated the end of their friendship because of Daisy, but truthfully, it was a long time coming. She hadn't been actual friends with Franny for years. She only tolerated her because she had no one else. So, she put up with all of her disgusting behavior. But getting to see Daisy, to really see her, and all the pain they had caused helped Sloan do what she should have done long ago. And oddly, she hasn't missed Franny. Or Gwen, for that matter. She'd rather be alone than continue to have to associate with them.

Thankfully, she wasn't alone. She picks up her phone, finds Daisy's number, and types out the text she's been aching to send all day.

Sloan

I miss you.